


where the fields are painted gold

by deadgreeks



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hanahaki Disease, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Chirrut Îmwe/Baze Malbus, Oblivious Bodhi, Pining Cassian, everyone loves each other so much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 10:35:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10462938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadgreeks/pseuds/deadgreeks
Summary: Hanahaki disease is rare, caused by unrequited love, and symptoms manifest in the form of patients coughing up petals. The disease can be cured by surgically removing it, but the feelings are removed as well. If it is not cured, the patient will die.The first time Cassian coughed up flowers, he and Bodhi were spending a rare moment alone, outside in the sun





	

**_Hanahaki disease is rare, caused by unrequited love, and symptoms manifest in the form of patients coughing up petals. The disease can be cured by surgically removing it, but the feelings are removed as well. If it is not cured, the patient will die._ **

 

Before the events on Scarif, Cassian had no one. It was him and the cause, nonstop, everyday, since he was a child, the only bright spot being the addition of K2. Who he had to build to be his friend. Because he couldn’t make friends for himself.

But now, he had an entire family, like he never had before. He had K2, as always, and Jyn, and Chirrut, and Baze, and….and Bodhi. He hadn’t spent a meal alone in months; almost all his recreation hours were spent with a few or all of them, and for the very first time, Cassian wasn’t alone. So of course, he had to fuck it up.

The first time he coughed up flowers, he and Bodhi were spending a rare moment alone, outside in the sun. Bodhi was telling him about his piloting lessons, about how his instructor told him he was one of the most gifted students he’d ever taught--this, he said so bashfully, as though it wasn’t something Cassian already _knew_ \--and Cassian told him that he’d pass his exam and be cleared for active duty in no time. Bodhi _blushed_ , ducked his head, rubbed his neck, stuttered, with the sun shining down on him and it was so fucking _beautiful_. Like everything about Bodhi. Cassian felt a tickle in his throat and coughed into his hand. He saw a flash of yellow.

“ _Mierda,_ ” he whispered.

Bodhi turned to look at him, frowning, and Cassian hurried to hide the yellow petals in his hand. “Cassian? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he muttered, getting to his feet. “I’ve got to go, sorry. I’ll...speak with you later.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, hurrying away before Bodhi could say anything in response.

As soon as the door to his room slid shut, he leaned against it, pulling the petals from his pocket. They were delicate and fragile, vivid yellow, pointed on one end and round on the other. He recognized them from his travels, and it didn’t take him long to identify them on the holonet. Yellow gladiolus. _Gladioli symbolize strength of character, moral integrity, and honor, as well as passionate infatuation. Yellow gladioli specifically represent compassion and remembrance._

He knew what it was, of course. What else caused a person to hack up flowers in the presence of someone they adored? Hanahaki disease. Caused by unrequited love. It made sense. Cassian had spent his entire life alone, closed off, and the one time he let people in, it was going to kill him. He sank to the floor, back against the door, and put his face in his hands.

He didn’t regret falling in love with Bodhi. It was inevitable, really--Bodhi was strong, he was brave and good, he’d risked everything, _lost_ everything, to do what was right. He was kind, he was a talented pilot, he was quiet and anxious but brave in the face of it, he was funny when he let himself be, and friendly to everyone. Even Cassian. No, falling in love with Bodhi was bound to happen. How could he not?

And, he supposed, it was also inevitable that Bodhi wasn’t going to return his feelings. Why would Bodhi, beautiful, strong, righteous Bodhi, fall for a broken spy who had done horrible, sick things in the name of the Rebellion, things he would never speak of to anyone, even K2? Things even Draven would recoil at in horror? He wouldn’t. He would never.

He should’ve known. He should’ve known this one warm, beautiful thing would smother him from the inside out.

 

He kept it hidden well enough, for a while. Chirrut knew, although Cassian didn’t know how. While the others expressed concern for his worsening cough, Chirrut only gave him pitying looks and distracted the others while Cassian disposed of the petals. Cassian trusted him to know his gratitude without voicing it.

However, while Bodhi, Baze, and Chirrut respected his privacy, Jyn and K2 did not. Jyn found out after only a few weeks; they were assigned to a simple mission together to meet with one of Cassian’s spies on Coruscant the day after Cassian’s leg was healed well enough that he was cleared for duty. K2 was piloting the ship, and he and Jyn waited below, packing their bags. They would likely be on Coruscant for several days after making contact with his agent, attempting to recruit spies in the Empire’s capital. Why _Jyn_ had been sent with him on such a sensitive mission was unclear, but however doubtful he was of her devotion to the Rebellion, he'd come to like her. He trusted her to have his back.

“Rogue One,” Bodhi’s voice crackled over the comm, tinged with amusement at the callback to Scarif. “Are you there?”

Cassian pressed a button on the comm panel. “Captain Andor speaking,” he said, confused. Bodhi wasn’t their contact for this mission. What was he doing on the comm?

“Hi, Cassian.” He could practically hear Bodhi beaming. “I had to bribe Bresat to let me on the comm. I wanted to wish you good luck.”

“Good luck?” Jyn frowned, echoing Cassian’s own confusion.

“Yeah.” If Cassian closed his eyes, he could perfectly imagine how Bodhi must’ve been fidgeting nervously with his sleeves, gaze downcast. “Er, since it’s your first mission since Scarif. Was that Jyn?”

He frowned. “Yes, that was Jyn.”

“Tell her hello for me. Anyway, I hope things go well, Cassian,” Bodhi said softly. “I wish I could do the kind of work you do. It’s important.”

Cassian was quiet for a moment. “Thanks, Bodhi.”

“Of course--er, I mean, you're welcome. Bresat is demanding the headset back. Talk to you in a few days!” And then he was gone, and Cassian could finally relieve the tickle In his throat. If he was being honest with himself, it was more than a tickle, now. It was more like a sharp ache, harder and harder to suppress. He coughed a small handful of yellow petals into his hand.

“Oh, for fuck's sake, Andor,” Jyn said, after a moment. Cassian refused to look at her.

“It’s none of your concern.” He turned his back fully, clipping a blaster to his belt and slipping a spare into his bag.

“None of my _concern?_ ” Her volume rose, and he shot her a sharp look, glancing up meaningfully towards the upper part of the ship, where K2 was. “That’s bullshit, Cassian, and you know it. You’re my friend.” Her voice cracked on the last word, and he winced, knowing that what she meant was ‘family.’ “You’re going to get it removed, right? Soon?”

“Jyn,” he began softly, and she threw her hands up, interrupting him.

“ _Cassian_. _Please_. Bodhi wouldn’t want you to kill yourself over this, you know that. This is stupid.” Her eyes were vicious and wild, shining with unshed tears, because she knew. She knew he wasn’t getting it removed, she knew he’d rather die, because he and she were just alike, at the base level. She understood.

He didn’t answer, because she knew what he would say, and it would only hurt. They finished prepping for the mission in silence, and that night, when he thought of her wet eyes, his chest ached, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. He couldn’t.

 

K2 discovered his affliction in much the same fashion. Cassian and Bodhi sat together at the end of the table their little group had claimed for themselves, talking quietly together.

“There was this pilot I flew with a few years ago, a rookie, it was his first long-distance run, and the Empire gives us these impossible schedules to keep, and this kid was freaking out about it, so I gave him some stim and told him, ‘if you don’t want to get disciplined, you’ll drink this so we can make it on time’ and he gave me this disgusted look,” Bodhi laughed. _Beautifully_ , Cassian thought, as he always did about Bodhi. His throat began to tickle; perhaps he should’ve taken the forewarning as a blessing and excused himself so the flowers would die down, or he could cough them up unseen, but he didn’t want to leave. Bodhi was in an unusually good mood, he was rarely this talkative, and Cassian didn’t want to miss it. He _couldn’t_ . He only had so much time left, after all. “And he told me, that in the academy, they’d told them not to touch the stuff, and I told _him_ , ‘well, they tell you not to, but then they give you these schedules you can’t keep without it.’ And he told me I was just a bad pilot. So of course, this kid gets exhausted, it’s been twelve hours and he probably barely slept the night before, and falls asleep. And we get there almost twelve minutes late, and the commanding officer is so furious, he gives the kid a formal reprimand over the Imperial Holonet and fines both of us.”

Cassian scowled. “That’s so horrible,” he sneered. “That they’d force you to _drug yourselves_ to accomplish their impossible tasks.”

Bodhi shrugged, eyes downcast. “I don’t know. I guess I never thought of it.” He began to launch into another story, about how one time he drank too much stim and was called before his commanding officer and was so wired, he acted like he was tweaking, but Cassian was too absorbed in the heat building in his chest to listen properly.

He’d seen Bodhi’s hands shake, the way he sweat, how sometimes he seemed barely awake and others completely on edge; he’d seen the stim withdrawals, and the knowledge that the Empire had done that to him was infuriating, that they’d taken his home and forced him into their service, given him impossible orders with the risk of possible _execution_ hanging over his head if he didn’t accomplish them, and forced him into an addiction to meet those demands, and--and--

He felt the flowers pushing their way up his throat, and his eyes went wide. He slapped a hand over his mouth, tripping as he practically ran out of the mess hall, guilt ringing through him at Bodhi’s startled, confused expression, the pity in Chirrut’s face as he hurried past, the sorrow in Jyn’s eyes.

Cassian leaned against the wall outside the mess hall, coughing more than a handful of yellow flowers onto the ground in front of him, clutching at his throat. It was the most he had ever seen--Bodhi’s radiant good mood had done a number on him.

“How long?” The robotic voice behind him startled him, though it shouldn’t have. He didn’t turn. “How long, Cassian?”

“A few weeks,” he muttered, finally turning to look at his friend after he had ground the petals into the dirt.

“The _pilot_ , Cassian?” K2 despaired. “You are killing yourself over the _Imperial pilot?_ ”

“He’s not an Imperial pilot anymore,” Cassian said sharply. “He’s a _Resistance_ pilot, just like you’re a _Resistance_ droid.”

“This is foolishness,” he told him. “You’ll die. 68.9% of hanahaki cases end in death, Cassian. You cannot risk this. You must get it removed. 97.2% of hanahaki patients who have the surgery live to die of unrelated causes, and 2.4% of those who do not are those who commit suicide. You would not do such a thing.”

“I know, Kay,” Cassian said, bone weary. “I know, it’s a death sentence.” He stared at where one of the bright petals peaked out of the dull brown dirt. “But I can’t do it.” Straightening his shoulders, he met K2’s gaze. “Let’s go back in. The others will worry.”

 

He couldn’t hide it from Bodhi for long. He wasn’t sure why he’d thought he could--even if Bodhi didn’t return his affection, they were still friends. Good friends. They were together often, and there was nothing Bodhi did that didn’t cause a pang of longing in Cassian’s chest, which was always, these days, immediately followed by a handful of petals.

Bodhi came to his room, shyly asking if he could borrow Cassian’s coat because Jyn had told him the mission he would be flying the next day would be very cold. Cassian was tough. Cassian had spent his whole life alone, suppressing anything that interfered with his duty. Cassian was not a lovesick blushing schoolboy who lay awake at night whispering “Cassian Rook” to himself wistfully in the dark. But the very thought of Bodhi wearing Cassian’s jacket was enough to send him into a horrible coughing fit, doubled over with his hand braced against the wall. The petals came out in handfuls, and, horrifically, with a fair amount of blood.

“Cassian!” Bodhi cried, grabbing his shoulder. He knelt down so he was at Cassian’s level, eyes filled with horror and concern. He squeezed Cassian’s shoulder, sending him into another coughing fit. “Are you okay? How long has this been going on? Let me get you to the medbay, come on--”

“ _No,_ ” Cassian gasped, grabbing his arm as he pulled away. “No, it’s fine. It’s...I’ve had it for a while now. Don’t worry.”

“Cassian,” he whispered. “It’s hanahaki. You’ll die, you have to get it removed.”

“I won’t,” he snapped, and then softened when Bodhi winced. He released his arm. “I won’t. I’m sorry, I just--I can’t. Bodhi…”

“No, it’s.” Bodhi took a shaky breath, fidgeting with his sleeves. “I won’t pretend to know what it’s like. I just...you should consider it, at least.” They stood together in silence, Cassian’s heart pounding in his chest. What would Bodhi think of him now? Now that he knew he’d allowed a harmless crush to blossom into this horrible, unrequited love and spread through him until it drowned him with its intensity, now that he knew how _weak_ Cassian was. Bodhi would be disgusted, but he wouldn’t let it show. He was too kind for that.

“Who are they for?” Bodhi asked suddenly, softly.

Cassian stared at him. “What?”

“The feelings, who are they for?” Bodhi’s face was open, empathetic, unsuspecting, and Cassian was dumbfounded. Bodhi didn’t know that Cassian’s heart was his. _He didn’t know._ “Is it Jyn?”

“ _Jyn?_ ” Cassian yelped, unable to keep the disbelief from his voice. Jyn was...Jyn was what he might have been, if not for the Rebellion. They understood each other, and Jyn was perhaps the first person in his life who valued _him_ more than the cause he served. If it came down to the mission or Cassian’s life, she would save his life, every time. But they were family--it wasn’t like that. It was baffling that Bodhi thought it might be.

“Er. Yes?” Bodhi frowned. “Are your feelings for Jyn?”

Cassian paused. He had two choices here: tell the truth, and suffer the excruciating pain of Bodhi’s rejection--the very thought caused him to cough up a petal--or take the coward’s way out, lie to the man he loved to save whatever good opinion of him Bodhi might still inexplicably harbor.

“Yes,” he said weakly. “It’s Jyn.”

“Oh.” There was no pity in Bodhi’s face, only compassion. _Yellow gladioli_. “I’m sorry, Cassian.”

They were quiet again, Cassian leaning against a wall, trying to ignore the ache in his chest, and Bodhi standing beside him, looking far away and pensive.

“Can I ask you something?” Bodhi said suddenly.

After a moment’s hesitation, Cassian nodded. “Of course.” He would give Bodhi anything.

“Why won’t you get them removed?” He didn’t meet Cassian’s eyes. “Not that...that I think you should, I don’t know how I would feel in your place. But. Why not?”

Cassian was very tired. He had lived a very long life in a relatively short number of years, and he had spent much of it trying to harden his heart against anything he could control. Too much was out of his control, too many planets were obliterated by the Empire, either with the Death Star or by their endless hunger for resources; he’d seen too many good people die senselessly. It was a desperate survival mechanism to try to protect himself from caring about those people. But loving Bodhi was different. Loving Bodhi was inevitable, impossible to resist, and unthinkable to undo. And Bodhi deserved to know why he would die before he lost that, even if he didn’t know that he was the cause.

“Because,” he said, after a very long pause. “Even though I know it will kill me, my feelings for...for _her_ are the best thing I have felt in my life. She is the best part of my life.” He met Bodhi’s eyes, desperate for him to understand. “The day I met her, I knew I would love her until I died. She is why I have sacrificed everything throughout my entire life. Until her, I forgot why I was fighting. But meeting her...I know it will kill me,” he repeated. “But I can’t lose that. I can’t lose that feeling. I would die first. I _will_ die first.”

Bodhi smiled at him, soft and sad. “I understand,” he said gently. “I hope...I hope she returns them.”

“She won’t,” Cassian said wearily. “But I don’t need her to.” _I don’t deserve that._

 

He had thought, perhaps foolishly, that he could keep the disease from interfering with his duty. But on the first mission he and Bodhi were assigned to together, barely twenty minutes into the firefight after their rendezvous with one of Cassian’s contacts been intercepted, a stormtrooper rushed Cassian from behind, bringing him to his knees. Cassian looked up to the pale yellow sky, and though it was not so vivid as the petals, he couldn’t help but see Bodhi’s goodness, his compassion, his strength there. He waited for the blaster shot to turn his vision black, to end the constant pressure in his chest, to put him down with dignity before something as pathetic as _unrequited love_ killed him.

But it never came, and when he turned around, the stormtrooper was on the ground with a blaster hole in his chest. He looked around, frowning, and saw Bodhi, wild-eyed, clutching a blaster with shaking hands, pointed where the stormtrooper had been. He’d saved his life. Bodhi, who had barely been through basic training, had run out of safety and into a firefight because he’d seen that Cassian was in danger.

“Cassian,” he said weakly, and the pressure in Cassian’s chest overwhelmed him at the sound, petals spilling out of his mouth, sending him forward onto his hands, blood specking the dirt and the pile of flowers, and it _wouldn’t stop,_ it felt like something inside of him was being ripped out and he couldn’t make it stop. He heard Jyn screaming his name, the sounds of blaster fire, Bodhi calling out to him, and everything went dark.

 

When he woke, he was laying in a bed in medbay, with Dr. Winfol leaning over him, scowling.

“ _Chingados_ ,” he groaned.

“Captain Andor,” she snapped. “When, exactly, were you going to inform me that you had an advanced case of hanahaki disease?”

“Uh.” He swallowed past his sore throat. “Soon, definitely.”

“Of course,” she said dryly. “The soonest I can do the surgery is next week. I encourage you to avoid the object of your affections until then and do your best not to think of them. Your case is extremely advanced, I’m surprised you’ve made it this long. It wouldn’t be safe to see them at this time.”

“I don’t want surgery," he said, groaning as he swung his legs off the bed.

She stared at him. “Excuse me?”

“I don’t want it removed,” he snapped. “Unless you can treat it without removing the...the _feelings_ , I don’t want it gone.”

“Captain Andor,” she said, exasperated. “This is foolish. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that 65% of hanahaki patients die if they don’t get surgery--”

“Sixty-eight,” he interrupted casually, getting to his feet. He was weak, but otherwise fine.

“Excuse me?” She had a habit of that.

“It’s 68%,” he told her. “And I’m well aware. Thank you for your advice, Doctor.” He strode out of the medbay as Dr. Winfol called after him.

“I will be informing General Draven!” she cried. “He will want to speak with you.”

 _I’m sure he’ll hate that his dog is choking on a bone he didn’t throw him,_ Cassian thought bitterly, but he held his tongue. He was a soldier. Having a terminal illness didn’t change that.

 

All of his friends waited outside the medbay, Jyn wearing holes in the floor with her pacing, Bodhi worrying holes into the too-long sleeves of his sweater. K2 stood still, watching the both of them with disdain, and Baze and Chirrut were unusually quiet. All of them snapped to attention when they saw him.

“I’m alright,” he told them weakly. He avoided Bodhi’s gaze. He didn’t trust himself to look at him.

“Did you finally come to your senses and schedule a surgery?” Jyn snapped.

“No, Jyn,” he said. “I did not.”

“Turn around and return to Dr. Winfol,” K2 told him. “You are exhibiting signs of a concussion.”

“I am not,” he sighed. “Jyn, Bodhi? Are you injured?”

“Oh, don’t worry, _I’m_ fine,” K2 sniped.

Cassian rolled his eyes. “I can see that, Kay.”

“We’re fine,” Bodhi said quietly. “Just worried about you.”

“ _Extremely_ worried,” Jyn seethed. “Cassian, you have to--”

“If Cassian doesn’t want to have his feelings removed, it is not our place to force him to,” Chirrut said. “How many of us would sacrifice the same? I certainly would not.” He linked his fingers through Baze’s, who nodded.

“He’s going to _die_ , Chirrut,” Jyn said. “He’s being an idiot.”

“He is listening to his heart,” Chirrut told her solemnly.

“That’s bullshit,” Jyn cried. “He’s being stupid and _selfish_ \--”

“ _You_ are being selfish,” Baze interrupted. “Expecting him to give up something that is obviously important to him simply because you do not want to lose him.”

Jyn looked as though she’d been slapped. “I guess I’m the only person who cares about him,” she said at last, storming out.

“Hey,” K2 protested. “I _also_ think Cassian is being an idiot and only thinking of himself.”

“Thanks for the support,” he muttered, risking a glance at Bodhi, who was being very quiet. He coughed slightly, spitting a few petals into his palm. “I need to lie down.”

“Of course,” Bodhi said immediately. “I can walk you to your room.”

“It’s fine,” Cassian said quickly, feeling another ache in his throat. “Thanks, Bodhi. Really.”

“I don’t think you’re fine,” Bodhi frowned, and then paled. “Er. I just mean someone should walk you to your room, is all.”

“Yes, I think that’s a fantastic idea,” K2 said. “Perhaps _you_ can talk some sense into him.”

Cassian was too tired to protest again, and simply nodded. Bodhi came to his side, making the slow walk to his dorm.

“So it’s getting worse,” Bodhi said, after several minutes of silence. Everyone they passed stared at Cassian; he supposed word had gotten out, now. The cold, lonely spy captain was being devoured by his feelings from the inside out. How pathetic.

“Yes,” Cassian agreed.

“Cassian, if it’s just going to kill you--”

“I’m not having the procedure done, Bodhi,” he sighed. “If I’m going to die...this is not the worst way.”

“I disagree,” Bodhi muttered. Cassian smiled, a little. Bodhi was so argumentative, when he was comfortable with someone. It warmed Cassian’s heart that he was one of those someones.

“ _E_ _res tan bello,_ ” Cassian told him softly.

Bodhi frowned. “What?”

“Nothing,” Cassian said. He was going to need to cough soon, he could feel it; the pressure was building up. “You’re in agreement with Jyn and K2 that I should get it removed?”

“They’re your feelings,” Bodhi said, after a moment. “I don’t think anyone can tell you what to do with them. Jyn is just….I’m sorry, is it too painful to talk about her?”

Cassian waved a hand. “No, not particularly. Don’t worry. What about Jyn?”

“I think she’s afraid of losing another part of her family,” Bodhi told him. “She does love you, Cassian. And K2 does too. They’ve just never been in love, they don’t understand what you’d be losing.”

“I know,” he sighed, and then paused. He was going to regret this. “Have you ever been in love?”

Bodhi thought about it for several moments. “No, I don’t think so,” he said, and Cassian was both relieved and disappointed. “I’ve been with people, but...I don’t think I loved them, really. The only people I’ve loved were my family, and all of you. Under the Empire, it just wasn’t safe to love someone.”

“To have someone you couldn't lose,” Cassian said. Yes, he understood that.

“Exactly.” Bodhi nodded. “So I don’t think I would’ve admitted it to myself, even if I did love someone like that. I think I would’ve just...buried it, so it wouldn’t hurt if I lost them.”

“That is what I thought as well,” Cassian admitted. “Until...until Jyn.” He winced. He hoped Jyn never found out about this. She would probably kill him, and call him an idiot.

They arrived at Cassian’s door, and he typed in the code to open it, relief soaring through him at the sight of his bed.

“Thank you for walking me to my door,” Cassian murmured, voice hoarse and strained with the effort to refrain from coughing.

“No problem,” Bodhi said, smiling. “Get some rest.”

“I will.” As soon as the door closed, Cassian collapsed into a coughing fit, piles of blood-specked petals littering the floor, until he made it to his bed and passed out on top of the covers.

 

He woke up to a comm from General Draven, demanding a meeting in his office. Of course.

Cassian had slept for almost twelve hours, and the comm had been waiting for almost two. Draven was going to be spitting mad when he finally got there.

Blood and yellow petals covered his pillow, and Cassian put a hand to his face, his fingers coming away red. He hit the ’fresher and changed his clothes before heading to Draven’s office.

“Captain,” he greeted gruffly.

“General,” he said, saluting.

“Sit down, Andor,” Draven sighed. Cassian took the seat across from him. “You’ll get that surgery next week.”

“With all due respect, sir,” Cassian said, jaw tightening, “I will not.”

“Don’t be a fool, Captain.” Draven slammed his fist on his desk. “This will kill you. If you’re holding out hope that whoever this is will return your feelings, they _won’t._ So stop this delusion. Get the damn surgery.”

“Sir.” _You will not take this from me._

“The Rebellion needs you, Captain Andor.” Draven stared him down. “Do not let the Alliance fall because you have a crush.”

_I have nothing left the Alliance has not taken from me. It will not take this._

“This is not the Empire, General,” Cassian seethed. “You can't force me to get a procedure I do not want. I will not allow the disease to affect my performance again, until my death.” He stood, saluting Draven. “Can I be dismissed, sir?”

“And if I take you off of active duty until you either die or get the damned surgery?” Draven asked wryly.

“With all due respect,” _you will not risk the possibility that you might lose a single moment of my usefulness,_ “I believe you will act in the best interest of the Alliance, and I believe you know that would not be in it. Sir.”

“You’re dismissed, Captain,” Draven sneered, after a moment.

Cassian hurried from the room, as quickly as he could, and found Baze waiting for him outside his room. Alone. Cassian couldn’t remember the last time he had seen he or Chirrut without the other.

“Walk with me, Captain?” Baze said. Cassian hesitated, and nodded.

He was surprised that Baze led him silently off of the base and onto one of the trails in the thick forests of Yavin 4. Although he had been stationed there for almost a year, he had never explored the fabled jungles, and he was amazed at their beauty--the tales had not been exaggerated.

“I knew a Guardian, many years ago,” Baze said suddenly. “She had hanahaki disease.”

Cassian didn’t speak. He sensed that Baze didn’t want him to.

“They were bleeding heart flowers,” he said, and smiled a little. “I thought they were fitting. White, and red in the middle. She thought it was very funny, that she was bleeding bleeding hearts. She was in love with another Guardian.” His smile disappeared. “But the man she loved loved another.”

“Did he also have the disease?” Cassian asked, after Baze had paused for several long moments, lost in thought.

“No, it was not so poetic. The person he loved eventually returned his affections,” Baze told him. “But my friend...she refused treatment for it. I watched her waste away to nothing. I was the one who found her, in front of one of the altars, surrounded by blood and petals. I carried her to the infirmary, but she was already gone.”

Baze looked up at the sky. “I asked her, once, why she would not get the disease removed. She said, ‘however much it hurts, living without it would hurt more.’ I thought about how I felt about Chirrut--we were young then, we were not yet married. I thought my feelings were unrequited. Chirrut thought the same. I wondered what I would do, in her place, and decided I would not remove the way I felt for anything.” He turned to face Cassian. “I respect what you are doing. The others will understand, in time...Bodhi will understand.”

Cassian startled. “You know?”

“Of course I know,” Baze laughed. “Chirrut tells me things. Besides, you are not so subtle as you think. The boy is just far more oblivious than any man as smart as him has a right to be.”

“Oh.” After a moment, Cassian smiled. “Thank you.” He felt a sharp ache in his chest, and coughed up a few petals, letting them drift from his palm onto the forest floor. The yellow was even made even more vivid by the black dirt. The red specks looked almost beautiful.

 

Bodhi was beginning to worry about Cassian.

For the past month, he had been avoiding base, going on nearly every mission that was scheduled. Bodhi could count on one hand the number of times he had seen him, and each time, he’d looked progressively worse, steadfastly avoiding Bodhi’s eyes. He spent most of the time Bodhi saw him coughing up bright yellow petals until one of their friends ushered him away. It was horrifying.

Of course, Jyn was with him on almost all of those missions.

Bodhi supposed it made sense--Cassian had little time left, of course he wanted to spend it with the person he loved. That made sense. It also made sense that he wouldn’t want to spend that time with the Imperial pilot who didn’t get off his ass and stand up for what was right until someone told him exactly where to go and what to do. Cassian had been fighting his entire life. Bodhi was just an anxious coward, and a mediocre pilot.

Somehow, Bodhi was never able to sign onto these missions, even when he went directly to Mon Motha and requested to be sent with his friends. She’d only given him a pitying look and told him they already had a pilot.

He was scared half to death that Cassian was going to drop dead next week, and the last thing Bodhi would have said to him will have been, “Hey--Cassian--oh--nevermind--sorry--” as Cassian hurried past him towards his assigned ship, coughing handfuls of flowers into his hand, barely sparing him a glance.

Bodhi knew Cassian had limited time left; that much was obvious to anyone who looked at him. People whispered about it when he wasn’t around, how they never would’ve guessed that the man who had done unspeakable, horrific things for the Rebellion would die choking on his feelings for someone. _Pathetic_ , some said; _poetic_ , said others.

So he did feel a little bit guilty, lurking outside Cassian’s door when he heard he would be returning that night from a mission. He held a small container of kalwa and a thermos of caf, sitting with his back against Cassian’s door. He’d been there about half an hour when Cassian rounded the corner, looking disturbingly pale and exhausted. The moment he saw Bodhi, his eyes went wide, and he began to cough violently. Bodhi jumped to his feet, uncertain of what he should do.

“Don’t worry,” Cassian said, looking wryly at the pile of petals he had left on the floor once the worst of the fit seemed to pass. He pulled a small bag out of his pocket and swept the petals into it, pulling out an antiseptic pad to scrub away any blood that had gotten on the floor. “Dr. Wilfol gave it to me,” he explained. “She said it would clean up the blood, kill any germs it might leave. No worries about infection.”

“That’s good,” Bodhi said uncertainly.

Cassian stared at him for a moment. Even looking as ill as he did, he was still the most beautiful person Bodhi had ever seen. “What do you need?” He said finally.

“Um.” He held up the container of kalwa and the thermos. “I made something my mother used to make for me, on Jedha. And I brought caf, since I thought you might be tired.”

Cassian began to cough again, and when the fit--even longer than the last--subsided and he had cleaned up the petals and blood, his eyes were shining. Bodhi thought it must’ve been from the coughing, but the way his lips trembled and his voice cracked, he wasn’t sure. “Thank you,” he whispered hoarsely. Maybe he was scared--two horrible coughing fits in a row. That wasn’t a good sign. He took a deep, shuddering breath, and smiled weakly at Bodhi. “Do you want to come in?”

“If you’re sure,” Bodhi said doubtfully. He didn’t want to keep Cassian awake, he just...he wanted to _see_ him. Until recently, Cassian had been Bodhi’s best friend. And then he suddenly vanished, right at the end of his life.

“Of course,” Cassian murmured. “Come in.” He typed his pass code into the pad, and gestured for Bodhi to enter in front of him when the door slid open.

Cassian’s quarters were startling bare. A narrow bed, a small desk with a holo of a good-looking man and a stern-faced but smiling woman, both of them resting a hand on the shoulders of a very, very small boy. Beside it was a holo of all of their friends, which Cassian was not in. Bodhi remembered the occasion--Jyn’s birthday party. Cassian had captured it. Bodhi was in the forefront, smiling at an unseen Cassian, with Jyn beside him gesturing wildly as she accused Chirrut of cheating at the game they’d been playing. Baze laughed at all of them, and K-2SO was unsubtly sneaking a peak at Jyn’s cards while she was distracted. It was a happy memory, one of Bodhi’s happiest. It pleased him that it was obviously happy for Cassian too. On a shelf, several knickknacks--gifts from all of them--rested, carefully placed.

“How was the mission?” Bodhi asked.

“It went well,” Cassian said hoarsely, hip leaning against his desk. “How was life on base?”

Bodhi winced. “I wish I had gone with all of you,” he murmured.

Cassian avoided his eyes. He did that a lot, now. More often than he met them. “It’s better to stay here. Safer.”

“Safer isn’t always better,” Bodhi scowled.

“True enough,” Cassian chuckled.

Bodhi sighed, accepting that he wasn’t going to get anything more out of Cassian on the subject. He offered the container and thermos, and Cassian accepted it with soft eyes and an even softer, “thank you.” Several petals followed the words out of his mouth.

After a long moment, Bodhi gestured to the holo of the two adults and child. “Is that...you? And your parents?”

Cassian nodded. “I was five when my father died,” he said. “Killed in a protest. Six when my mom did. A few stormtroopers decided she looked suspicious because she was carrying a ‘strange parcel.’ It was our groceries.” He spit the words out, seething. “This holo is all I have left from before I joined the Rebellion.”

“How long after she died did you join?” Bodhi asked softly.

“A few days,” Cassian admitted. “Just long enough to cremate her, and then I started carrying messages and packages for the local cell. It escalated from there.”

“You were so young,” Bodhi said. He couldn’t stop looking at the holo. Just a year after it was made, that little boy-- _Cassian_ \--was fighting for the cause he would devote the rest of his life to.

“There are some who join younger,” Cassian said with a shrug. “And...I had no choice. I admire those who join later. Who sacrifice things. I had nothing left to lose and nowhere to go. I was just an angry child, I wanted revenge for my parents. I never stopped.”

“It’s brave,” Bodhi told him, and he paused to let Cassian finish coughing. Pick up the petals. Wipe up the blood. The motions were rote at this point. “It’s brave, to spend your whole life fighting for what you know is right.”

“It’s braver to sacrifice everything you’ve known to do it,” Cassian countered.

Bodhi smiled. “We’ll get nowhere with this,” he said, but his chest warmed with Cassian’s compliment.

“Perhaps not,” he allowed. “But it’s true.” Suddenly, the unusual levity in his drawn face vanished. “Bodhi, you’re the bravest man I’ve ever known. I want you to know that.”

“Cassian…” He began, but Cassian waved him off.

“No. I’m going to die, and before I do, I want you to know that.” There was a strange fire in his eyes. “Bodhi Rook, you are the bravest man--the _best_ man--I have ever known. Do you know that?”

“I. Yes, Cassian,” he whispered, unable to say anything else in the light of Cassian’s fervent belief. “Yes. Thank you.”

“Good.” Cassian relaxed, and looked tired once again. “Would you mind if I went to bed? The thermos should keep the caf warm until morning.”

“Of course,” Bodhi said, stepping away. “Um, I hope you like it all.”

“I will,” Cassian assured him, eyes shining. “Thank you, Bodhi. I mean it.”

 

The next week, Bodhi saw his chance to find his way onto a mission with the others. Someone in his squadron was going to be piloting their mission the next day, and he hurried to intercept her as she began performing her last-minute maintenance checks.

“Barnic!” he called, and she jumped.

“Hey, Rook,” she greeted with a smile. “What’s up?”

“I’ll give you one hundred credits to pretend you’re sick tomorrow and give me your assignment,” he said, anxiously worrying at his sleeves.

“Why?” She asked suspiciously.

“All my friends are going,” he admitted, and she laughed, eyeing him carefully.

“You’ll be in combat,” she told him. “Like, on the ground. Getting shot at, shooting at others. K-2SO will wait with the ship, you five will be breaching an Imperial record hall.”

“That’s fine,” he said eagerly. “One hundred credits, then?”

“One-fifty and you’ve got yourself a deal,” she said brightly, offering a hand to shake on it.

“I’ll transfer it to your account as soon as I get back to my room,” he assured her.

“Hop to it, bunny-rabbit, I’ve got my eye on a new coat,” she said. “Thanks, Rook.”

“Thank _you_ ,” he called over his shoulder, hurrying out of the hangar.

He couldn’t help but be excited--he missed his friends, missed _Cassian_ , and maybe if he proved himself on this mission, they’d request him as a pilot on future ones.

 

When K-2SO and Cassian climbed into the cockpit the next morning, both froze upon seeing Bodhi in the co-pilot’s seat. Cassian immediately began coughing, and K2 shot Bodhi a dirty look, as though his mere presence had caused it. He wasn’t sure how a glare was possible, given that K2 didn’t have expressions, but Bodhi _felt_ it.

“You are not my co-pilot on this mission,” K2 said. “I was told last week that Lieutenant Barnic would be piloting with me, she has attended both briefings.”

“Barnic is sick,” Bodhi explained, put out by their lack of enthusiasm. “I was assigned instead.”

Cassian recovered from his fit. Picked up the petals. Wiped away the blood. “It’s fine, K2,” he said wearily. “It's not a problem, Bodhi. Did she tell you we would be in combat?”

“Yes,” Bodhi said. “It’s okay. I’ve been through basic, I know how to use a blaster.”

“I know you do,” Cassian said, smiling at him. “K2, calm down. It will be alright.”

“If you say so,” K2 grumbled. “I calculate an 83.7% chance of this going poorly, Cassian.”

“Noted,” Cassian sighed. “Don’t worry. Bodhi is a good pilot and a good soldier.”

“You’re _biased,_ ” K2 grumbled, whatever that meant.

The rest had equally poor reactions to Bodhi’s presence, Jyn and K2’s moods souring further each time Cassian coughed.

On the way to the records hall, Bodhi couldn’t help but examine Jyn when he could. She was pretty, sure. And smart, and resourceful. Funny, in a dry, weird way, like Cassian. Tough. He could see why Cassian would be willing to die for her.

The thought put him in a foul mood, and he focused on flying.

The moment he and K2 had landed the ship on the roof of the record keeping office, the five of them were out, slipping through an air duct one of Cassian’s contacts had told them about. The mission was going well, they only encountered a few stormtroopers, which they dispatched easily. Bodhi was pleased; he’d been worried things would go poorly, and he’d be blamed. There were only a few minor hiccups, in which Cassian had to stop to cough, but it was only a handful of petals, rather than the horrifying fits he’d been having.

The turn came quickly.

They entered the records hall. There were far more troopers than Cassian’s contact had told them, two dozen more; or maybe someone set off a silent alarm before they’d killed them, and every trooper swarmed to defend the hall. Either way, they were overwhelmed.

Cassian and Jyn alone took out six with their blasters, and Baze another seven with his cannon. Things were going well, all things considered, until the alarms began to sound, and another contingent of stormtroopers swarmed the room.

Cassian turned, eyes wild. “Bodhi, _run!_ ” he yelled, taking three troopers out.

“What? No,” Bodhi protested, shooting another as it aimed at Cassian.

“Yes, Bodhi,” Cassian snapped, taking a break in his shooting to press his comm. “K2, Bodhi is en route, get him out of here.” He paused, taking another four shots as he listened. “K2, do it! _Please!_ I--”

He began to cough. Bodhi’s eyes went wide and he lowered his blaster, watching in horror as more blood and petals than Bodhi had seen up to now covered the floor. Panic climbed up his throat; Cassian was going to _die_ , Cassian was going to--

“Cassian!” Jyn screamed, rushing to cover him.

Cassian recovered. “I’m fine, it’s-- _Bodhi!_ ”

Bodhi was frozen in place, staring at the petals and blood, but at Cassian’s strangled cry, he looked up, to see a stormtrooper aiming directly at him. Cassian shot but missed, and the world slowed down as the stormtrooper pulled the trigger. As Cassian screamed, a horrible, painful sound. As he threw himself in front of Bodhi. As the blaster shot hit him square in the chest, and again, and again, and again, until Jyn took the trooper down.

Bodhi managed to catch Cassian, lowering him to the ground. Baze launched himself into the fray of stormtroopers with a furious yell; he was pretty sure Jyn and Chirrut were covering them. All he could focus on was Cassian in his arms, the wounds in his chest.

“Bodhi?” He whispered, frowning up at him. “Bodhi, are you okay?”

“Cassian, I’m okay, I’m okay, don’t worry about me,” he babbled, hands fluttering over Cassian’s chest. “Cassian, it’s okay.”

“You shouldn’t be here,” Cassian whispered. “Why did I bring you here? You should be safe. You should be safe.” His eyes closed.

“ _Cassian!_ ” Bodhi screamed, and Cassian’s dark eyes opened blearily. “Cassian, stay with me, please, Cassian, _please_ , _sanam_ \--” and he paused, a moment of stillness in the panic. _Sanam_ . _My love_ . Fuck. Of course, of course he’d realize he was in love with Cassian, a man who was already dying of love for someone else, just as he was about to lose him. _Fuck._

“Bodhi,” Cassian whispered, his hand coming up to cup Bodhi’s cheek, his thumb touching one of the tears spilling down Bodhi’s cheek. “It’s you, Bodhi. It’s you.”

“It’s me, Cassian, it’s me,” he said. Was Cassian forgetting that he was here? He was fading.

“Bodhi, _eres tu,_ ” he said urgently. “Bodhi, _te amo. Te quiero tanto._ Bodhi,” he whispered, and his eyes closed.

Bodhi sobbed, pressing his forehead to Cassian’s, hands clutching at his shirt, murmuring his name over and over. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Baze grabbed him by the shoulder, shaking him until he looked up at him. “Bodhi! We have to go!”

“I’m not leaving him,” he snarled, and Baze took a step back, hands up.

“Neither are we. Baze will carry him, but we have to _go_ , before their reinforcements arrive,” Jyn snapped. She shoved him back, gesturing for Baze to pick up Cassian’s body. He did so gently, mindful of his gushing wounds.

They hurried out--evidently, Chirrut had been shot in the shoulder, Jyn’s leg grazed, but they ran as fast as they could, climbing into the ship just as another contingent of troopers burst onto the roof behind them. Bodhi didn’t even ask if K2 needed his help, trusting him to get them out of the atmosphere alone. He sat with Cassian’s head in his lap, while Jyn tried to staunch the bleeding. Chirrut leaned over him, and looked up at Bodhi.

“He will be alright,” he assured him. “He is strong. Cassian will make it.”

Bodhi nodded numbly, his hands moving through Cassian’s hair. Growing up in the shadow of the temple had given him an appreciation for the Force, but he wasn’t sure he would stake Cassian’s life on it.

They flew. Cassian breathed. Bodhi hoped.

 

When Cassian awoke, he was in a tremendous amount of pain.

Not as much as he’d been in when he’d passed out--strangely, not as much as he’d been in the past few weeks, as the hanahaki disease worsened--but his entire torso ached horribly. He tried to sit up, groaning with the effort.

His movement must’ve summoned a nurse, because as soon as he tried again, one strode through the door.

“Captain Andor,” he said smoothly. “You’ve been unconscious for several days. Those stormtroopers did a number on you.”

“How are the others?” He demanded, and went pale. “How is Bodhi? Did they make it out? Did they--”

“The others returned with only minor wounds,” the nurse assured him. “Not to worry. Lieutenant Rook has been waiting for you to wake up since we brought you in.”

Cassian winced, waiting for the inevitable petals, but none were forthcoming. He froze. Why wasn’t he hacking up gladioli at the mention of Bodhi? Was it because he knew it had nothing to do with any feelings or lack thereof Bodhi had for him, and only guilt at Cassian’s condition?

“When will I be released?” he asked.

“Oh, not for several days--” the nurse began, and Cassian rolled his eyes, forcing his legs off the bed with a wince. “Captain Andor!” he cried. “You have to rest!”

He tested his weight, and stood tentatively, wincing at the pain in his chest. “I’m pretty sure I outrank you,” he said. “I’m leaving.” He grabbed his belt, blaster, and boots off the table beside his bed, and walked out of the room with the nurse on his heels, crying out that he was going to reopen his wounds.

He passed through the doors of the medbay and almost collided with a wide-eyed Bodhi, holding some sort of container.

“Er.” Bodhi gaped at him. “Cassian.”

“Bodhi,” he said softly.

“They didn’t say they were discharging you,” Bodhi squeaked.

“They aren’t. I’m just leaving.” Cassian smiled, glancing down at the container in Bodhi’s hands.

“Oh. Uh. I made shorva,” Bodhi said. “It’s soup. From Jedha...and now I’m realizing I probably should’ve made something from Fest. I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it’s perfect,” Cassian said, and winced, waiting for the ache in his chest to send him into a coughing fit, but nothing came. He frowned--lately, just the mention of Bodhi was enough to choke him with petals, much less Bodhi doing something so kind for him.

And then he realized.

They must’ve removed it. They must’ve taken advantage of his injuries, and removed the disease while he was unconscious, when he couldn’t protest. His heart twisted in his chest, and he stumbled back. “Bodhi, I have to--I have to go, I need to talk to my doctor.” He turned and tore off back to his room, the blaster wounds in his torso and the residual ache in his leg screaming their protest, and found Dr. Winfol and the unfamiliar nurse waiting, looking at his chart. He threw his pile of belongings on the bed.

“What did you do?” He demanded, grabbing Dr. Winfol by the shoulder. She turned to face him, frowning.

“What do you mean?” She asked, adjusting her glasses.

“The hanahaki disease,” he snapped. “What did you do? You _knew_ I didn’t want it removed. Did you--” he cut off, face twisting. “Did _General Draven_ order you to?”

“Captain Andor, I didn’t remove anything,” Dr. Winfol said. “General Draven did suggest that perhaps we should alleviate you of the disease, but I am a physician, not a soldier. He has no authority over me.”

Cassian stopped. “Then. Why isn’t it happening anymore?”

“The petals?” Dr. Winfol’s eyebrows rose. “The disease is gone?” Cassian nodded mutely. “Perhaps the object of your affections has begun to return your feelings.”

“It’s true.” Bodhi’s quiet voice came from behind him, and Cassian turned, watching Bodhi step through the door. He sat the container of shorva on the table beside his bed. “Um. I think maybe Jyn realized how she felt about you, after you got shot.”

“Nurse Athemen, let’s give them some privacy, shall we?” Dr. Winfol said, gesturing for the nurse to exit the room before her.

“What do you mean, Jyn realized how she felt?” Cassian asked carefully, once the door had slid shut behind them.

“She was really worried about you,” Bodhi explained. “Maybe she realized how she felt. And now she returns the feelings, so it’s not unrequited anymore. The disease is gone.”

“Bodhi,” Cassian said softly, looking away. “Jyn isn’t the person I had feelings for.”

“What?” Bodhi sounded confused. “But, you said--”

“Well,” Cassian allowed, “ _you_ said. I just...agreed.”

“Who, then?” Bodhi asked. Cassian swallowed hard. He steeled himself. “Who are your feelings for?”

“You, Bodhi,” he whispered. “You’re the one.”

Bodhi was silent for several long moments. “ _Me?_ ”

“Yes, you,” he said, with a weak laugh. “I. Um, I didn’t want you to know you were why I was sick. I didn’t want you to blame yourself.”

“Cassian,” Bodhi said, in a broken voice.

“No, it’s okay,” Cassian assured him. “You don’t have to feel the same way--the disease is gone, so you don’t have to feel guilty--”

“Cassian,” Bodhi interrupted, with a blinding smile. “The disease is gone because I feel the same way.”

“I.” Cassian met his gaze, blinking. “What?”

“I realized, when you’d been shot,” Bodhi said, blushing. “I thought, what a time to realize you’re in love with someone who’s already in love with someone else. But. It’s me?”

“It’s you, Bodhi,” he said, a slow smile growing. “It’s you. How could it not be you?”

“For _so many reasons--_ ”

“I don’t want to hear them,” Cassian interrupted, stepping to close the distance between him and Bodhi. “They’re wrong, all of them. And I don’t want to hear them.”

Bodhi ducked his head, blushing, and Cassian gently tilted his head back up with two fingers to meet Cassian’s gaze, marveling at the newfound privilege to do so. “Hey, Bodhi,” Cassian began, but before he could finish, Bodhi surged up to kiss him, lips crashing messily together. It wasn’t the most elegant kiss, but it was the best Cassian had ever had, infinitely better than any one-night trysts or casual relationships with some desperate soldier who just wanted to be not-alone as badly as Cassian did. Bodhi wanted _Cassian_ , not just someone to fill the void, and Cassian wanted him too.

Bodhi pulled away after a moment. “What did you want to ask?”

“I was going to ask if I could kiss you,” Cassian admitted.

Bodhi laughed. “Er. Yes?” Cassian kissed him again, and again, and again, looping his arms around Bodhi’s waist. He pulled him against him, and broke away with a wince, hand flying to one of his wounds. “Oh, sorry,” Bodhi said, blushing.

“No, it’s my fault,” he waved him away, sitting on the edge of his bed. “I might’ve pushed it too far.”

“Now that I’m your boyfriend, can I make you stay in the medbay?” Bodhi asked, bemused, and froze. “Er. That was a joke, if you don’t want to--”

“Bodhi,” Cassian said, smiling. “I spent two months coughing up petals because I’d rather die than stop loving you. I think it’s okay to call yourself my boyfriend.”

Bodhi smiled, taking a seat beside him. They linked their hands, and Cassian ran his thumb along Bodhi’s, feeling nothing but warm contentment where the ache had been.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to realize,” Bodhi said softly. “It’s just…”

“Hard to have someone you can’t lose,” Cassian finished for him. “It’s okay. I understand. It’s difficult.”

“Yeah, it is.” Bodhi paused. “So about forcing you to stay in the medbay.”

Cassian groaned. “Only minutes into our relationship, and already you’re calling the shots. How did I know this would be the case?”

Bodhi grinned, laying his head on Cassian’s shoulder. “Oh, I don’t know. You do have a thing for bossy people.”

“I do not,” he protested, indignant.

“All of your friends are the bossiest people I’ve ever met, and I used to work for the Empire,” Bodhi pointed out, and Cassian laughed.

“Well, I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he admitted, and he felt Bodhi smile against his shoulder.

“Yeah,” he said. “Me neither.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading!!! The title is from [Bloom by the Paper Kites](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eeuI-EzhYUA) because the song is perfect for this au.  
> Come visit me on tumblr at [deadgreeks!](http://deadgreeks.tumblr.com/) Talk to me about star wars. Please. I'm dying.  
> "Mierda"="Shit"  
> "Chingados"="Fuck"  
> "Eres tan bella"="You're so beautiful."  
> "Eres tu"="It's you."  
> "Sanam"="My love."  
> "Te amo"="I love you."  
> "Te quiero tanto"="I love you so much."


End file.
